Well. There was athought.
There was no reason for him to linger in the apartment. There was no reason for her to ask him to stay. There was definitely no reason for her to move closer to him. But she was.
She was in her magic.
His expression went deadly serious, the grooves by his mouth deepening as he looked down at her. She was so much shorter than he was—she was only one or two inches shorter than David—and Declan was tall. She just came to his shoulder, and it made her feel small and pretty. She reached up and touched his face before she could think better of it. Before she could second-guess herself.
He made a short, masculine sound and gripped her wrist, wrapping his fingers tightly around her. “Be careful,” he murmured.
“I’m kind of tired of being careful, actually.”
Before she could think better of it, she stretched up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. He bent quickly, kissing her, hard and fast and deep.
She was dizzy.
When was the last time she had been kissed like this? Maybe never. Because when they had been dating, she and David had tried not to kiss like this, lest they fall into temptation, and then after they’d been married, he was so excited to get her naked, to get inside her, that kissing wasn’t really the point.
But right now, kissing felt like the point.
His lips and teeth and tongue were hungry as he wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her completely. She clung to his shoulders, her toes lifting off the floor as he took the kiss even deeper.
She didn’t want to think. She didn’t want to overthink it, she didn’t want to moralize it. She didn’t want to decide if it was a mistake or growth or a step toward a future. She just wanted it to be. Not right or wrong, but just something that felt indescribably incredible.
She was the one who started tearing his clothes off. As she propelled them both through the living room, she stripped his shirt up off his body, gasping when her palm made contact with his muscular chest. Yes. Yes. Yes.
She wasn’t sure if she was saying that out loud or if she was only saying it in her head. If it was just a chorus playing over and over inside her or if it was overflowing into the moment. It didn’t really matter. She was beyond shame.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had wanted something because it felt good. That she had surrendered to pleasure.
Maybe never. Just like these deep, long kisses, maybe the answer was never. Maybe this was the first.
She was only dimly aware of him taking her shirt off, undoing her bra and leaving it somewhere in the hall as they stumbled to her bedroom. He growled, curses on his lips as he drew back and looked at her body, as he lowered his head and started to kiss his way down her breasts.
She pushed her fingers through his hair as he sucked one tightened bud into his mouth, and pleasure exploded in her midsection.
This was losing control. This was giving in to temptation. This was that fast and furious roller coaster of desire straight to hell.
But she wasn’t afraid. This was it. She finally knew. She finally understood. What it was to be reckless. What it was to want beyond the limits of your own propriety.
What a gift.
She had been wandering in the desert for way too long.
She had thought everything was okay. She had thought that the number of days she and David had sex a week spoke to the health of their marriage. That lying down and giving him what he wantedwas the secret to a happy life, but she hadn’t been enough. It hadn’t been enough.
This felt like more than enough. It wasn’t about sacrifice or duty or doing what she was supposed to. It was just about desire. Her desire. It rocked her world; it remade her into something new.
There was no sound in the room but their breathing, rustling clothes, his belt being whipped through the loops on his pants. The zipper came down, but she only managed to push his pants partway down his hips. He had her lying on her back, totally naked, his hands between her legs as he teased and tormented her, heightening her arousal to near-untold proportions.
Then he replaced his hand with his mouth, and she went up in flames, his hold on her bruising as he forced her hips down onto the mattress, forced her to surrender to the never-ending pleasure he was showing her.
It was about her, this moment, and yet it was clear he was enjoying it. It wasn’t a sacrifice. It wasn’t something he was doing to just try to get her off easily, a once-a-very-special-occasion act that existed only to trade for the reverse.
No, he was acting like this was the journey and the destination all rolled into one.
She came on a harsh cry, and he kissed his way up her body, draping her leg over his hip as he thrust into her, and she clung to his shoulders as he carried them both to the finish line. As he brought her to the peak yet again just as he cried out his own release.
“Oh, dammit,” he said, his voice rough. “I didn’t use a ... a condom. I’m sorry ...”
